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Full text of "NightRider"

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Indians was dirt, a-blotten hit out clean, lak a kid spits on his
slate and rubs hit clean. And thar all the Indians would be,
all the nations a-standen and callen, all them what had died,
on that-air new white earth. The live ones was dance-en to
bring hit, the new world. But what has done been ain't
a-come-en agin, hit is used-up and done, and ain't no dance-en
will bring hit, not no more'n what we done, you and me and
them others, to bring back what was used-up, lak oil in a
lamp, now, and the wick plumb dry.

" But them Indians, they was them as had seen that new
land. They was them as fell down in the dance and had
died, lak they named hit, when they was a-dance-en, and laid
on the ground stark and stiff lak dead. They was the ones
as had seen hit, the new land. They'd come to, lak a man
wake-en, and tell as how they had seen hit. They seen the
new earth, all white and shine-en, and the dead ones thar,
happy, and beckonen with the hand, and they talked to 'em.
Squaws what had chil'en what was dead, they'd see 'em.

"They was some folks as was laughen and scornen. Said
them Indians was gone plumb crazy. But not me. One
time, long a-fore, when I was young and sallet-green, I mighter
scorned. But not then, in 'ninety-one, when I was a-come-en
back, after what hit was I'd seen. I'd laid dead lak them
Indians, and seen hit come to me. Hit was how I was a-come-
en back. In 'ninety-one.

"But them Indians. They come together in a big ring, a
dance-en. Round and round, and a-singen. Them songs
they made up, how they'd been dead and what they seen in
that-air new land a-come-en. And the medicine man, he was
in the middle, a-shake-en his eagle feather, and them Indians
move-en round, and a-singen. Then somebody starts to feel
hit a come-en and starts a-shake-en and shudderen, lak the
chill. And the medicine man, he waves that-air eagle feather
a-fore his face what's a-shake-en, and he blows out his breath
at him and says, 'Hunh, hunh, hunh, hunhP And that
feller comes outer the ring in the middle, lak the blind-
staggers, and the medicine man waves the feather a-fore him,